Welcome to Gotham
by EIlaWrites
Summary: What does a person do when they suddenly find themselves on the streets of Gotham? Step one, come to terms with the fact that Gotham is real. Step two, find the Batman because if he can't help you, no one can. For Meera Adams, everything depends on the Bat. She's just hoping he can make time in his busy schedule. Saving Gotham isn't easy, trying not fall in love is even harder.


I know the real-world people being transported to fictional lands is a common trope, but nonetheless I thought it would be a fun take on Batman. So this is all experimental and I'm hoping to make it as unique as possible as we go along.

Enjoy!

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 **Welcome to Gotham**

Huddled on the roof of a building, trying not to freeze to death, Meera Adams realized just how terrifying Batman was. Back home, with her nose buried in a comic book, the girl had come up with many words to describe the hero. Invincible, ingenious, heroic, dark, moral, and occasionally sexy. Sure the lowly thugs and criminals would be cowering in fear when he showed up center stage, but they were criminals on the verge of the greatest ass-kicking of their lives. So their fear was justified. However, the girl never expected her first meeting with her hero to involve shaking in her sweatpants, eyes brimmed with tears with stuttered mumblings spilling out her lips.

She expected to be super cool and aloof about it, probably just giving him a slick nod or a wink. Instead, she couldn't even say 'hello'.

"They're gone," his voice was threatening, even when he wasn't trying to be. "Calm down."

"B-ba-back off," she stammered, tripping over her own feet - and probably the ice - as she neared the edge of the roof.

Never meet your heroes, they say. In her case it wasn't because her hero was a fraud, but instead because she was acting like a socially awkward sea cucumber and would never be able to live it down. To be fair, it's not like she expected to meet Batman tonight of all nights, let alone in the freezing cold winter, on a dark rooftop, after getting the shit beaten out of her by none other than Penguin's thugs.

Last she checked, Penguin didn't exist.

Hell, Batman wasn't supposed to exist either.

Now with confusion mingling into her fear, the girl watched her alleged hero like a deer in headlights. He was taking slow, cautious steps towards her, as if he was cornering a rabid animal. He was tall, very tall, especially with those ears. His face was dark, the shadows practically drowning him, making him appear more demonic than human.

Maybe he was a really hardcore cosplayer. Shit, did she just unwillingly play damsel in distress in yet another roleplay gone crazy? The last time that happened was at last year's convention, and even then she knew what was going on. That it was all fake, crazy nerds taking things too far. She never feared for her life then. But now, she was panicking, a mess of confusion and distress, and that building edge was getting closer and closer.

The psycho nerd in the far-too-realistic batsuit suddenly lifted his arms in a mock surrender, coming to a sudden stop.

"You're going to fall," he said in that deep, slightly modified baritone of his. "Blunt force bruising to the skull, possible concussion, you`re not thinking straight. Lacerations on the left thigh, you'll bleed out. GCPD is on the way but if we don't stop the bleeding you will die."

"Back stay… I`ll… GCPD… hah, funny," cloudy, everything was cloudy and the ability to form proper sentences was completely lost on the girl.

The man was silent for a moment, glaring with those glowing eyes. His armor - or at least the parts Meera could make out - were well-defined and a dark shade of gray. Seems the psycho nerd based the costume off of the Arkham games. He may be completely batshit, pun intended, but at least he had good taste.

And then, just like that, in a blur of black and gray, he was across the roof with one gloved hand latched powerfully along Meera's leg. The girl screamed before making the sorry mistake of trying to kick him. Her foot bounced right off his chestplate, the ricochet vibrating through her bones, worsening the pain in her thigh.

"Calm down," he ordered, wrestling her thrashing arms and legs away as he reached into that universal belt of his to pull out a wad of cloth bandages. He tore through her sweatpants easily, and the girls skin prickled and numbed from the cold. Her struggling died down as he wrapped her leg, the cloudiness clearing, her mind coming together.

"Why're you doing this?" Meera groaned, happy that she could think straight, pissed because her head felt like it had been cracked open.

"Someone has to," he answered quietly, seriously, his gaze and attention far too focused on the bandaging.

"No, you fucking, piece of shit moron," her mother had always insisted that those who curse just have a limited vocabulary, AKA they're idiots. Most of the time, Meera was good about this rule, but most of the time she wasn't cowering in a puddle of her own blood either. "Drop th- ouch, watch it, augh… Drop the act... This isn't funny. I almost died, you're buddy beat me up just so you could get your rocks off and play hero?!"

The man continued to concentrate on his task, tearing off the excess before tying it into place. He only made a slight, barely audible humming noise.

"I`m gonna sue," Meera stated bluntly. "You're insane."

He put the remaining bandage roll in his belt satchel, "the authorities will be here soon."

"To lock your crazy ass up!"

The man stood up now, turning away, back into the darkness.

"Nuts, absolute lunatic. You give cosplayers a bad rep!"

The shadows seemed to swallow him up, and he was gone as silently as he had arrived. He had told the truth about the police, because after some mild freezing and borderline frostbite, they had arrived. The kicker though was their uniforms, each one lined with four white, bold letters: GCPD.

Must be a concussion after all.

"From the top once more," Commissioner Gordon asked.

Yes, Gordon, Commissioner flipping Gordon. Relax though, it's not like Gordon was an especially rare name. There were probably millions of Gordons, a few of them were bound to be Commissioners. Besides, this wasn't the cold, sturdy, gray-haired Gordon from Meera's comic books. No, this man was younger, personable, and maybe a little sturdy. There was a bit of a familiarity to him, but Meera didn't exactly trust her instincts for the time being.

And the GCPD thing? Well a lot of places have the initials G and C, no big deal.

"So I wake up in this…" Meera searched for the right word. "This… place? It was like a room of sorts, dark with brick walls, smelt like ramen. That was after they unboxed me of course. Don`t know how I ended up in that crate in the first place, or the room for that matter."

"Do you remember where you were before the room? What you were doing?" the detective asked, his hands clasped firmly on the table. He looked like he had been working long, Meera could tell from the unruly wrinkles in his white button up, to the coffee smell in his breath.

"I was at home," the girl answered. "Watching TV and then next thing I know I'm in that room with these two guys. Hardcore fanatics, were dressed and talking like penguin's henchmen. I mean if you`re going to go for a villain, you might as well go big. Who dresses up as a supervillains minion instead of the supervillain himself?"

"Dresses up?" the Commissioner blinked at her, his thick eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he mildly glanced at the recorder that sat between them on the plastic fold-up table. It was a rather stereotypical interrogation room. One table, two chairs, a far too intense lamp, gray brick walls, and a one-sided mirror that led to extreme cases of paranoia. Was someone watching? Would someone always be watching? What if she needed to adjust her underwear? Damn window mirror thing.

"Yeah, dress up," she repeated. "Cosplay? They were nuts though, completely psychotic, they actually bought into it." The girl leaned across the table, trying to drive her point into the confused man. "They thought it was all real. That they were _really_ Penguins men. Hell, they tried to kill me."

"Do you know why?"

"Maybe they think they look good in the pin-striped vests."

"The homicide part," he clarified, slightly frustrated before cooling off. "Why were they trying to kill you Ms. Adams?"

She had given her name in the hospital, a very brief and quick visit that left her in police custody. She wasn't arrested or anything, just a witness who most definitely wanted to press charges.

"They asked me where I hid _it,_ " Meera answered to the best of her ability. "Don't ask me what _it_ is because I have absolutely no idea myself. They thought I was a thief or something, when I wouldn't give them what they wanted, well, they got violent, they got…"

Touchy.

"Something spooked them and I ran for it, up the stairs which led to the roof. It was just a game to them, a fantasy, a big, crazy roleplay. Shouldn't I, you know, describe their faces or something?"

"No need," Gordon answered, this time his eyes were centered on his watch. An old school rolex that ticked audibly. "We arrested the men, Joseph Moore and Kaito Han, lowly criminals, petty thievery and a few level three assaults."

"And the Bat-wannabe?"

Gordon's face darkened, not a scary, sinister dark, but more of an unamused, serious dark. As if the girl made a joke in poor taste and he simply didn't appreciate it.

"The GCPD is working around the clock to bring the vigilante known as Batman to justice," he delivered the statement like a practiced line, as if he had taught himself to say it, as if he had said it a hundred times before. "We'll have a cop car escort you home Ms. Adams," he stood up now, and gestured for her to follow as he led the way outside of the room.

The precinct smelt strongly of coffee, bodies bustling around frantically, papers flew, phones rang, it was a rather cozy place. It felt safe, secure and warm. But more than that, it felt animated, it felt important. Meera vaguely recalled the stale, quietness of Oaktowns one and only police department. Speaking of Oaktown, she had a good feeling she wasn't there anymore. Her abductors couldn't have taken her too far, hopefully the cop won't mind the extra miles.

"Ah, driving duty," a burly, slightly chubby man rounded the corner, twirling a pair of keys in his hand before coming to a stop before Meera. He wasn't bad looking, with a ruggish charm and a wolfish grin, he looked like a cookie-cutter for trouble. "My favourite."

"Just drop her off Harvey," Commissioner Gordon said seriously, clearly unfazed by the other man's carefree demeanor. "No pit stops this time."

"Listen Jim, the beer just calls to me, like a damsel in distress. Can you hear it? Help Harvey, Help me," the man was rather theatrical as he rounded his arm around the Commissioners shoulders. "I gotta save her Jim, I took an oath as a cop."

The Commissioner rolled his eyes but almost cracked a smile before heading towards a group of frantic officers all huddled around a ziploc bag.

"I'll bring ya something," Harvey called after Gordon before turning to Meera. "Alright, c'mon," he led her through the various rooms in the precinct. Meera had no idea what any of them were called, but she knew when they arrived in the reception. What she didn't know, however, was where the hell she was.

Now outside of the police station, Meera found herself gawking at the huge, dark, metal jungle around her. Skyscrapers as far as the eye can see, bright neon lights popping up this way and that, freshly rained-over streets and the consistent honking of traffic. Even the smell was strange, smoke and rain, followed by brittle, sharp winds and a starless night sky. This place gave New York City a run for its money.

It wasn't especially beautiful, she could still spot piles of garbage in the alleys, and the occasional homeless person curled up in a make-shit tent. But the city was _impressive,_ oozing with personality.

"What is this place?" she finally asked.

"GCPD," he answered matter-of-factly.

"No, no, I mean, the city? What's it called?"

"You not from around here?" he looked slightly concerned.

"I definitely don't live in a city, especially one like this," Meera confirmed.

"Consider yourself lucky," he scoffed before sighing. "Ah, there goes my gas bill. How far are we headin` Miss?"

"Oaktown."

"Never heard of it," Harvey shrugged. "We'll pop it in that GPS thing, c'mon."

Meera followed as the officer propped open the door to the nearest squad car. The girl gave the city another once over, studying the gothic-meets-modern architecture before ducking into the car. It was as cold inside as it was outside. But she quite liked it, it was a welcome change from Oaktown`s ever consistent weather. Sunny and warm. They must truly be far away.

Harvey was already typing away at the little propped GPS, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"No luck, how do you spell it?" he asked.

"O, A, K, then town," Meera replied. "It's in Georgia."

Harvey tried yet again but the GPS buzzed and blanked. He looked up and shrugged, "Can't find it. Shit, Georgia is days away."

"Days?!" Meera stammered. "Augh, where the hell am I anyways?"

"Gotham."

The girl wanted to punch him across the face, but obviously, she restrained herself. Did the man think it was funny? A bunch of Batman-crazed psychos attacked her and this cop thinks it's alright to crack jokes? The nerve of him!

"Let me take you to a Hotel, try to get in touch with your family," Harvey suggested.

"Don't have any money, don't have anything but these ripped sweats, shirt and shoes."

"Let's just start by calling your family."

Meera mumbled a bitter okay. She was upset, annoyed, and now stressed out. What type of sick joke was this. Those costumed wanna-bes may have just ruined her life completely. What if her folks are still mad? What if they don't want to help her? How the hell was she ever going to get home?

Meera looked out the window, her eye lingering on the same homeless man she saw before. That was her future right there, cold and cardboard. She was doomed. She too would be huddled under the - what was that building called? - Gotham Laundromat.

Gotham Laundromat?

Confused yet again, Meera began scanning the city streets. The cars ahead of them, the ones that were moving, their license plates all had the word Gotham imprinted on it. Turning her attention back to the police station, she could now see the spelled out phrase Gotham City Police Department underneath the GCPD logo. She looked at Harvey again.

"Let me guess," the girl whispered the words. "Your last name is Bullock. Harvey Bullock."

"Always knew I had a bit of a rep," he chuckled. "All good things I'm sure."

Meera sucked in a sharp breath.

So this was it. She was in _the_ Gotham City. She was attacked by _the_ Penguins men. She was questioned by _the_ Commissioner Gordon. And she called _the_ Batman a piece of shit moron.

Another deep breath.

She used to dream about superheroes, about all the characters and stories that drove her green with envy. How many times had she prayed? How many times had she fallen asleep, begging, pleading and hoping to wake up in a different world altogether. Middle Earth, Narnia, Hogwarts, Mystic Falls, The Bunker, _Gotham._

Meera felt a strange sense of logical nothingness. A sane person would panic. The girl always thought she on the other hand would be happy, relieved and ecstatic. But now, in the moment, she just felt nothing. Calm, composed, and empty. Like the quiet before a storm, it hadn't hit her yet. It was building up though, with every breath she felt a strange pressure in her stomach. Like butterflies, the urge to vomit, a strange mix of everything.

She was hyperventilating now. It was getting too hot in here. The girl quickly cracked the window open, popping her head out and sucking in that cold city air like her life depended on it.

"Woah, woah, do not throw up in the car," Harvey leaned over to pat her on the back. "You okay? Hey don't stress out on me, we're not going to leave you hanging. We will get you home Miss, I promise."

Home? Did home even exist here?

Meera slumped her body across the window, clenching her eyes shut and trying to calm her system down. What happens now? What happens when you're an alien on a new planet? Gulliver on his island? A mortal on Olympus? Hell, what happens when you're an unremarkable, full-time college student in the middle of crime-ridden Gotham city of all places?

A stranger in a strange land.

But this wasn't a strange land. Meera knew everything there was to know about this place. She had read comics, seen movies, played games. The girl pulled her head out the window and sat up, the gears in her head churning at last. She needed help, she needed someone to explain everything to her, she needed a genius. And luckily for her, she knew exactly where to find him.

"Wayne Manor."

"Huh?" Harvey was still petting her shoulders.

"Take me to Wayne Manor," she repeated, more adamant than before. "I mean please, if you don't mind."

"Y'know Wayne?" he asked, clearly surprised. "Thought you've never been 'ere?"

"Um… well, yeah, we're just… pen pals?" Meera shrugged. "Look, just, take me there. Please?"

Harvey seemed unconvinced but started the car nonetheless, "beats driving you to Georgia I `spose."

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This is not an original idea in any shape, way or form. So let me know what you guys think because this is really experimental for me. Thank you for reading, really appreciate it.

Please review :3?


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